


Preening

by OverWroughtThought



Category: Acquisitions Inc., C Team, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), The "C" Team
Genre: F/F, Fluff, and feather down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 04:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverWroughtThought/pseuds/OverWroughtThought
Summary: Her intimate night with breathtaking owl bear Bleth doesn't go quite as Rosie anticipated, but it's still an evening they'll both treasure.





	Preening

"Now you jus' slow down there, Bleth," Trevor said with a hint of frustration. "You know mah owlbear speaking' ain't the quickest. You want a _whut_ now?"

The owl bear fluffed her feathers and gave a rumbling bass hoot that sent shivers down Rosie's spine. She swore she could feel the vibrations of it through the floorboards. It was followed by grunts of various pitches and a few vague hand gestures. Trevor nodded several times, one ear cocked upwards and twitching, the other set askew by his cap.

" _Mm hmm._ I see. Do I have one o' them? Well, shoot, I do fer me, but…I mean, it ain't like no skellington needs 'em. Or them cara-piece folk like Mister Five Bowl over thar." He jerked a claw at K'chik'chaw. The giant mantis froze mid-bite, mandibles twitching, halfway through another portion of complimentary grubs. Trevor snorted. "Yes, I _SEE_ you. I may be colorblind but I ain't…you know… _normal_ blind. Now _GIT_! Unless you decided to put some sorta libation in that craw o' yourn?" He locked eyes with the multifaceted orbs of the insect for a moment. Its antennae drooped. "Yeah, that's whut I thought," Trevor said. The Thri-kreen slunk away.

Bleth gently thumped a feathered fist on the bar to recapture Trevor's attention. Every nearby glass bounced and toppled. Rosie dexterously caught several that fell before they could hit the ground. She silently leapt up onto a bar stool to return the errant mugs. Trevor accepted them gratefully. Bleth voiced another reverberating hoot.

"All right, all right. You can borrow mine. 'T'ain't a problem. Jus' let me get it."

He disappeared behind a curtain into a back room. Rosie sat on the counter primly and surveyed the common area. Laughter, or what she assumed was laughter, rang from every corner. A cheer went up from a table near the fireplace where two mighty beasts were locked in an arm wresting contest. The odor of spilled beer and strange musk was bizarre, but somehow homey. Above her, the giant spider continued her labors, the ends of another scarf drifting down.

Rosie picked her companions out of the crowd, seeing more happiness on their faces than she could recall in a very long time. This was the most at home she'd seen Walnut act indoors, Donaar was contentedly counting up his winnings from his bet on her earlier game of Giants and Halflings, and K'thriss was discovering the joys of a good brew. Roise reached out and smoothed the feathers of the magnificent owl bear next to her. Bleth leaned down and nuzzled the halfling's forehead gently. Rosie felt certain that her new paramour understood and shared her happiness instinctively.

Trevor emerged and presented a battered hair brush to Bleth with a triumphant flourish. It was choked with grey fur. Bleth took it gingerly and carefully began cleaning it out with her claws.

"Now I'll need that back, y'hear? When I go out runnin', I get them cockleburs up in mah chest scruff sum'thin' fierce. Gotta keep mahself respectable, you understand." He gripped his suspenders with one paw and patted the bar in a proprietary way with the other. Rosie reached out and laid a gentle hand on his.

"You've done a great job here, sweetie," she told him. "I'm so proud of you." Bleth hooted in agreement. Trevor's ears flicked up and down as though he couldn't decide if he was happy or embarrassed.

"Well, shucks, ma'am. Ain't nuthin' to it." Something behind the bar clattered as an enthusiastic tail-wag knocked it down. He covered for the noise by hurriedly pulling a key off a hook on the wall and sliding it across the bar to Bleth. "Y'all have a good night, now." He picked up a nearby cloth, but paused mid-polish to stalk towards the corner, waving his hands. "Wh-? Ah said _GIT_ , K'chik'chaw! What part of 'git' don't you understand?" Rosie smiled and hopped down to follow Bleth as the mighty owl bear lumbered towards the stairs, leaving the noise of the bar behind them.

The wood creaked as Bleth's feet thumped down the hall. Rosie was a silent shadow next to her. Bits of discarded werewolf fluff left a trail behind them as the owl bear continued to meticulously clean the brush. They reached a door at the end of the hall and Bleth silently unlocked it, stooping low to enter. Rosie guessed it was one of the larger suites, with a bed appropriately sized for a creature of Bleth's stature. The decor was a mix of rustic hospitality and vampire fanboy chic. The four-poster bed was adorned with thick black curtains, an intimidating presentation somewhat offset by worn and threadbare quilts piled high next to colorful pillows.

Rosie couldn't help but reach out and examine the quilt designs, searching for familiar patterns like the ones she'd stitched a time or two with her own family. Instead of the geometric arrangements she was used to, these more organic shapes were of wolf and moon, tree and mountain, rabbit and deer. She was suddenly tempted to find a quill and sketch them in her journal, curious about the cultural history. Was that real fur, mixed in with the cloth? Were these traditional werewolf patterns? Had Trevor's family crafted these for him?

Bleth eased herself onto the bed, having finally cleaned the brush to her satisfaction, and patted the space in front of her.

"You want to brush my hair, dear?" Rosie asked. The owl bear nodded. "I'll admit," Rosie continued, "It's not what I was expecting, but it does sound wonderfully relaxing."

She unclasped her shall and let it fall to the floor before reaching back to untie her braid. Rosie shook her hair out languidly, long lengths of silver cascading about her face. She looked coyly at Bleth through the freed locks. The owl bear hooted again and patted the space in front of her once more. Rosie laughed.

"You'll forgive me a bit of preening, my dear. It's not every day I meet someone as gorgeous as you, you know."

Bleth's feathers fluffed with pleasure at the praise. Rosie hopped up gracefully onto the bed and crawled to the space Bleth had indicated. She sighed with contentment as she felt the brush pull through her hair, surprisingly gentle considering the owl bear's size. She looked back at the creature briefly, seeing how delicately the brush was held between three claws.

"Or someone so kind and thoughtful," Rosie added. Bleth simply clucked at that, sinking her head down briefly into her shoulders before resuming her slow and careful ministrations. The gentle, repetitive pull was soothing, and Rosie felt herself drifting into memory at the touch. She chuckled softly.

"Cher and I used to brush each other's hair like this," she said. "My daughter," she added, at Bleth's inquiring hoot. "She's an excellent musician. I should see if Trevor would feature her here. I'm sure everyone would adore her." She smiled, imagining Trevor's clientele dancing jigs to a lively tune from Cher's war lute, minotaurs leaping over tables and gelatinous cubes jiggling to the music.

"When she was little, she hated sitting still to have her hair brushed. It was always such a mess! I swear, mice could have taken up residence in it and she wouldn't have even noticed!" Bleth emitted a sound, a gruff rumbling series of snorts, that Rosie guessed was a laugh. The halfling leaned back, savoring the feel of downy feathers, before continuing. "The only time she would stay in one place was to practice her music, so that's when I would brush her hair. After a while, it became a tradition, and she would want to do mine too. We'd trade, sit and talk about the day, she'd tell me about music, or ask me about the places I'd been…"

Rosie sighed, "Those were good times." She turned a little, looking over her shoulder. "Have you ever had children, Bleth?"

The owl bear paused, her already large eyes growing a little wider. Slowly, she set the brush down. Reaching into the ample feathers of her chest, she unclasped a thin bandolier that had been completely concealed beneath layers of white plumes. Deftly flipping one pouch open, she gently reached inside and pulled out a pale plaster cast. It looked small in the owl bear's paws, but when she passed it over to Rosie, it was nearly the size of the halfling's head. The monk held it gingerly in both hands, turning it over.

It was a mold of a tiny paw, claws crisply imprinted, the ghost of feathers scratching about the edges. "Awww!" Rosie exclaimed, "Some of my children made these at their school…" She held it up to compare it to Bleth's paws, looking back and forth. "Look at how tiny they must have been! This is simply precious," she said. It was then she noticed the writing on the back. Elven numbers, along with a band of colors in a long line. Rosie looked up inquiringly, turning the cast over to point at the inscription. Bleth waved a dismissive paw, and there was something dark in her round eyes. Rosie dropped the matter. She had plenty of _those_ kind of long stories in her past too.

The halfling returned the plaster mold to Bleth and the owl bear eased it back into its bag, setting the bandolier aside on the bedside table.

Rosie shook her head back and forth, enjoying the lightness of her smoothed locks as they drifted about her face.

"Ah, this feels wonderful. You must let me return the favor," she said.

Bleth paused with an uncertain snuffling sound.

"Don't be silly. Of course I will! I told you, it's tradition. If you've done my hair, it's only fair that I help you with your…pinions?" She ran a hand over the feathers of Bleth's massive arm, gently smoothing nicked quills. Bleth stared at her a moment, then shook her head with another gruff, snorting chuckle. The owlbear reached back to the bandolier and riffled through the pockets, eventually pulling out a small, round wooden box. With a twist, she released the lid, revealing a thick gray powder, almost a paste, inside. The smell that wafted over to Rosie's nose was one that she felt Walnut would appreciate. It was an odor of the forest. Pine and musk, with hints of other spices. An earthy aroma.

Bleth made sure she had Rosie's full attention before gently dipping her beak into the powder. She then turned her head almost completely around and industriously burrowed her beak into her back feathers, neatly smoothing and aligning them. When faced forward again, she cocked her head at Rosie, and the monk saw a twinkle of challenge in the owl bear's eyes. Rosie reached out for the powder, holding the box in one hand while assessing the task before her.

"It looks like you can get the feathers on your back just fine, but…would I be correct in assuming it's harder for you to reach the ones on top of your head?" Bleth nodded, seeming pleased. "Well my dear," said Rosie warmly, "Why don't you lean back and let me take care of those for you?"

The bed groaned as Bleth shifted. Rosie held the powder aloft, glad she'd retained her nimbleness as the mattress bucked like the deck of a ship. She grinned at the memory of the open ocean. She was truly blessed to have had so many good recollections to cherish.

She positioned herself at the head of the bed, pulling Bleth's massive head into her lap. She gathered some of the powder onto one hand and began to run her fingers through the owl bear's feathers. She was amazed at how the powder swept away dirt and smoothed the strands, knitting them together neatly. As she worked, the feathers on Bleth's head seemed to open, allowing her to reach deeper. The owl bear let out a gusty, contented sigh, her body sinking into the covers as her mighty frame relaxed. Rosie's hands fell into a rhythm, and she found herself regaling her companion with tales of the sea from bygone days.

At last, she was finished. She returned the lid to the box and set it on the pillow beside her. Bleth had been quiet for a while. The candles had burned down low.

"Bleth, sweetie, are you still awake?"

The owlbear snuffled sleepily.

"I'd love to let you stay like this all night, but I'm afraid my poor legs will fall asleep if you do," Rosie whispered good-naturedly. Bleth murmured, leaning her head to the side so Rosie could inch out. Her hip and knee joints popped as she stretched them. Bleth's massive paws wrapped around her, insistent, but gentle. Rosie allowed herself to be pulled in close, and the owl bear held her, enfolding her in the softest downy embrace. Rosie wiggled upwards, reaching Bleth's face and taking it into her hands. She placed a small kiss on Bleth's magnificent beak. The owl bear blinked sleepily and gave an apologetic hoot.

"It's all right, my dear," she chuckled. "To be honest, I'm not sure how we would have made things work." Bleth looked at her through lidded, liquid eyes, a gaze that contained both merriment and heat. Rosie laughed. "Well, maybe we would have found a way. But this…" She curled herself closer, sighing contentedly as she was surrounded by the warmth of Bleth's arms.

"This is a moment I'll cherish too."

**Author's Note:**

> I was re-watching old episodes and decided to try my hand at writing something sweet. 
> 
> Takes place just after "The House Wins: Part One" of The "C" Team, a D&D game set in the Acquisition's Incorporated universe. You can watch all their games on [the PA YouTube channel.](https://youtu.be/ywZ0TcUh3l0?list=PLjZRIC6PMEFkWSAyAcwsiqCIbKXe9lMoF)


End file.
